And Death Shall Have No Dominion
by Poicephalus
Summary: In which Grievous proves the triumphs and pitfalls of technology by failing to stay dead, Ahsoka recounts her disappearance during the Clone War, the Sith Lords ignore karma and Obi-Wan senses a disturbance in the Force. AU
1. Back from the Grave

**And Death Shall Have No Dominion**

**Chapter 1 - Back from the Grave**

She moved casually, unhurried and seemingly wrapped up in the task of merging her scrappy little speeder bike into the flow of traffic. From the bag she carried and the logo slapped in gaudy neon ink on the speeder's prow, Suul guessed she was a local messenger. It was a good choice for a lone girl without any obvious relatives or friends. Many of the transient youth population took up messenger jobs and one more lonely spitfire wasn't going to attract undue attention, unless she wanted it. Clearly, she did not. Her clothes were practical, muted colours, the sort of unmemorable outfit suitable for hiding in plain sight. She had added some personal embellishments, but nothing unique- nothing that would cause the eye to linger, or question. Just enough to blend in, to look normal.

Suul followed her on his own speeder, half a block back and one lane over, eyeing her through the traffic as it inched along the congested downtown street. She had an advantage in the speeder, able to zip between hover cars, or go up on the sidewalk when there wasn't an obvious police presence. Suul doubted she would dare anyway. She might look like a brash runaway, out to prove herself to all the world, but she would draw the line at anything that might bring her into contact with the authorities.

She hung a hard right, making Suul struggle to push through the lane between them and follow. This street was much less crowded, though if he hung back and put a few vehicles between them, she would be oblivious. _Probably_. She sped up and Suul saw her head twitch to the right, checking her mirror. _She knows I'm here_.

Truthfully, Ahsoka had known for several days that she was being followed. For the past two years, she had been in a constant state of high alert, listening, reading, _feeling_ and waiting for this exact scenario. Someone was following her with intent. Whoever he was, he was quite good. Ahsoka hadn't caught on to him until the third day when his presence in the wash of other Force-signatures had become familiar to her. He didn't broadcast his intentions either, which made her even more uneasy. There were two explanations for that, neither of them good: one was that he was a trained professional accustomed to tracking sensitive prey; two was that he himself had some amount of talent in the Force.

Still, Ahsoka clung to her pretense of normalcy. Even strong-minded private investigators could be put off by an obstinate teenager. She changed lanes, angled north, heading into the city's industrial district where the company she worked for had its office. She had moved planets five times now and each time she had sought employment with a messenger agency. It allowed her freedom of movement, to explore, to gather information and should the need arise, a method of quick escape.

She stopped the speeder in front of the office and dismounted, pulling the heavy messenger bag with her. She paused to set the anti-theft lock (which the company insisted she use) and leaned over, pretending to check on the aft stabilizer. From her inverted position, she caught sight of her pursuer for the first time. He was riding a non-descript speeder similar in year and disrepair to her own, wearing the charcoal uniform standard to Imperial officers and a helmet. She made her glimpse brief, just a wary girl checking on a stranger in a bad part of town.

Suul watched her enter the office. He parked the speeder and approached the business. A bell chimed when he entered and a young human woman looked up from the front desk.

"How may I help you?"

"Good afternoon," he said with a smile, "My name is Suul Reise. I'm looking for a Togruta girl, last name Tano."

The receptionist shook her head. "We do employ a Togruta girl, but that isn't her name."

"May I speak with this employee? Togruta are social people; perhaps this girl knows where the one I am looking for could be found."

"Certainly, detective. Let me fetch her." The woman spoke into the receiver she wore and nodded. "She's coming." She paused, then leaned forward. "What's this girl done?"

"Nothing terrible. Just petty theft, mostly. Breaking into businesses, taking everything in the register, stealing things from parked cars, that kind of thing." He could hear footsteps, two sets, just beyond the two-way doors marked 'Employees Only'. He inclined his head to the receptionist. "But she may be able to help us solve another case. We think she was the witness to a murder."

The woman nodded, interest piqued. "Well, Soshi does live in the immigrant section of the city, with some of her own people, I think. I know she'd be happy to help you. She's a sharp girl."

Suul smiled. The doors parted and he looked up. One of the figures was an aging human male; the other was Ahsoka Tano. "Hello Soshi," he said, "I have some questions to ask you, if you please?" He could read nothing on her face. She looked equal parts curious and confused, just like an innocent young woman faced with an officer would. "Can we talk outside?"

"Sure, sir. What's going on? I haven't been speeding," she said, glancing backwards at her boss in a convincing display of youthful self-preservation.

"Not that I know of," he chuckled. "I have questions about someone I hope you know. Anything you can tell me could help us solve a crime."

"Of course," she said with a shrug, apparently relieved he hadn't gotten her in trouble at work. They exited the building. Ahsoka sat down on the edge of an ornamental cement flower pot and looked up. Suul studied her for a moment. She betrayed not a hint of anxiety, no fear, no suspicion. She played the role she had built very well.

"I'm looking for Ahsoka Tano," he said without preamble, locking his gaze with hers. She didn't even blink. "I'm an agent of the Imperial Special Forces."

"Wow. What did this Tano girl do?" she said, impressed. Her voice was steady, her posture unflinching save for a care-free kicking of her heels against the flower pot.

"She's a Jedi," Suul replied.

"Really? I thought they were all dead," said 'Soshi' and frowned. "She's Togruta?"

"Yes," said Suul.

"Well I live in the Togruta quarter. I haven't heard anything about her. I'd totally remember a Jedi."

"How long have you lived there?"

"Oh, since I was eleven. I came here all by myself from Coruscant."

"At age eleven?" said Suul, clearly disbelieving.

'Soshi' nodded. "Yeah. I'm an orphan. My parents died in a shuttle crash when I was eight. I stayed with an aunt, but I got a little wild I guess and she kicked me out. So I stowed away on a carrier and ended up here." She paused and lowered her eyes. "You're not going to arrest me for being a stowaway, are you?"

"No, Soshi. I'm not investigating stowaways. How old are you now?"

"Sixteen," she said and for the first time, he saw physical evidence that she was lying. Her shoulders hunched inwards- just a centimeter- and her gaze turned distant for a moment. She was lying- she remembered being sixteen and she hadn't liked it.

"Soshi… You can't work as a courier until you're eighteen. Who are you lying to?"

The girl bit her lip and said in a small voice, "You."

"Why did you lie to me?"

"You're sorta scaring me. I thought maybe if I was... you know, unreliable, you'd stop asking me questions."

"Okay Soshi, I'll excuse that," said Suul, though it made him wonder. Why had she lied? She had been doing admirably well playing the role she had built for herself until then.

"So how old are you?"

"Eighteen," she replied.

"So you've lived in the immigrant quarter since you were eleven, seven years then?"

"Yes."

"And never heard anything about this Ahsoka Tano girl? She'd be your age."

"No, never. Nobody talks about them," she said. She wasn't kicking her feet anymore and all of the little motions she made, carefully planned misleading tells, had stopped. She was completely still.

"Ahsoka, you must have realized you can't run from us forever. You're not that good."

And she was gone. Suul had barely registered the fact she had leapt _over_ him when he heard the speeder's motor roar to life. He cursed and ran for his own vehicle. She had a head start, though not by much. Time to call in the reinforcements.

"Wai, Isaac, I'm southbound on 263rd street, just past the Rathi-Rathi Industrial sector, in pursuit of our target. Cut her off."

His comm sputtered. "Yes sir, here we go," replied Wai. She was the more dependable of his subordinates, mostly owing to previous experience working together.

"I'm eastbound on 164th," replied Isaac, scrambling to keep up evidently. Isaac had never expected to actually be called into service, his specialty being what it was, and spent a good part of each day miffed at the machinations of the universe at large and the fore-sight of Geonosians specifically. "Are we supposed to be shooting at her?"

"Negative, Isaac. Do not fire on her. We need her breathing."

Ahsoka concentrated on her driving to keep herself from becoming completely scared to death. Fear was healthy but excess fear was not- not something she needed. She bit the inside of her lip. Four years ago, she wouldn't have hesitated to call herself a Jedi, much less think it. Now, the less she thought of it, the safer she was.

A red and white speeder, obviously custom built and painted, lurched into her path and she swerved to avoid colliding with it. She narrowly missed smashing into oncoming traffic and turned to flip a visual insult at the speeder driver only to see him closing in for another attempt. She spun the controls, whipping down a side street, heading for the space docks. This was a short-cut she'd taken several times before for legitimate reasons which was relatively difficult to navigate-

Unless you were Imperial Special Forces. Suul dropped out of the sky, nearly crashing his own vehicle as he wrenched around in front of Ahsoka's. She turned sideways to avoid him, launched her speeder over his complaining craft and landed with a crunch of repulsors on the other side. Sparks and flame spurted from the port repulsor lift but the girl was definitely very much in control of the speeder still. It zig-zagged and bounced through the sparse traffic, making for the distant spires of the space-port. Suul gritted his teeth and roared after her.

"I missed," he informed his accomplices, "Wai, she's coming straight for you."

"I'm going to fire an ion blast at her speeder," the comm crackled.

"Good. Slow her down at least."

Ahsoka saw the other speeder pull out into the intersection and stop. Traffic coursed around it, horns blaring indignantly. Ahsoka yanked her ailing craft into another hard turn but before she could complete the manouveur, the rider in the intersection fired. A circular web of power quickly over took her- and several hapless commuters- and the bike chugged, sparked and died beneath her. Ahsoka leapt free, rolling to a stop partway down the alley. She ran. She didn't have time to think, only to escape, lose herself in the crowds at the space-port, find a ship-

Suul careened down the alley behind her, amazed at her speed. She was determined, he'd give her that. But he had a blaster set to stun. He aimed over the controls and fired with masterful precision. The girl tumbled head over heels and slid to a halt.

"Got her," he informed his cohorts and stopped the speeder beside her prone form. She was out cold, slumped in a ragged pile face-down on the pavement. Suul poked her with a toe gingerly. He'd never actually chased down a Jedi before and he wasn't taking any chances. The last thing he wanted was the gruesome duo of his superiors holding him accountable if he failed.

Wai pulled into the alley moments later as Suul was snapping the binders on her wrists.

"You shot her?"

"I stunned her."

"I thought Jedi could deflect blaster shots."

"They can, if they have lightsabers," said Suul. "I hadn't seen her with one, even a cleverly disguised substitute for one. I assumed she either lost it or disposed of it at some point to hide her identity." He hefted the girl onto the back of his speeder bike. She was lean but surprisingly heavy. Tough girl.

"Let's get her back to headquarters before she wakes up. I don't want to know what she can do even without a lightsabre."

Wai nodded and took up point position. Isaac drew up behind them, looking exhilarated.

"We got her!"

"Yes, we did."

"No hideous crunching death for us!" he chortled with glee.

Ahsoka woke up sore. Her shoulders hurt. Her back hurt. The back of her hips hurt and she had cramps from her butt to her feet. Wincing, she struggled to sit up and calm her rigid muscles.

The room was not a cell as she had first assumed, but the cargo hold of a small transport shuttle. She was anchored to the wall by a length of cable, looped through the binders holding her wrists behind her back. She could move no more than a few feet in any direction, though the slack in the cable did allow her to lie down. Slowly, she got to her feet, rubbing her arms.

"Ahsoka Tano."

Ahsoka froze. She recognized that voice. It too was part of the things she didn't allow herself to remember, because that would lead to thoughts of situations and company she couldn't bear to think of. She turned around, eyes narrowed, one hand falling to her hip in an unconsciously confrontational posture.

"I thought you were dead," she said icily.

General Grievous towered over her, flanked by the Special Forces agent, Suul, and two other black-clad Imperials holding guns. He was, as she remembered, big, brusque and irritable.

"Your friend Kenobi carelessly left before he could finish the job," he growled.

"Maybe you just weren't worth the effort," she fired back. Predictablly, the General stomped forward and reached out for her with one skeletal hand, then stopped himself just short of throttling her.

"Mind your manners, padawan," he hissed, "Or you may find my hospitality somewhat lacking."

Ahsoka pretended to ignore the cyborg and turned to look at Suul. "You know I cut his hand off once," she said conversationally. Suul raised an eyebrow. Grievous rumbled wordless annoyance.

"You never passed the trials?" said Suul, turning his head a degree away from her, seeming somewhat confused. Ahsoka fought with every fibre of her being not to look at the floor in shame.

"No," she said evenly, meeting Suul's gaze, "I never did."

"Hmm," he said, then turned and left. Ahsoka turned her attention back to the General and his two silent lackeys.

"So what are you going to do with me? I wouldn't put killing an un-armed opponent below you, but I doubt you'd be gallant enough to give me a weapon."

Grievous cackled. "Your kind are few these days, padawan," he said, shifting his weight restlessly, "Killing you in a fair fight would be exquisite, but if I recall, you were rather disappointing in previous encounters."

"Why don't you release me and see what I can do now?" she challenged and something deeply buried rolled over within her and stirred. The General was pacing; big, decisive steps that radiated restrained power, a sharp twist at the end of the cargo hold and eyes flashing with greed.

"What did you do with your lightsabre?" he asked, pulling to a momentary halt in front of her. His eyes travelled up and down her ratty clothes, lingering at her empty belt. Something was off about his eyes. Ahsoka couldn't be sure since she hadn't given much thought to the General's appearance in their previous encounters, but she thought they looked more… artificial.

"I'm wearing it," she said, allowing a bit of mischief to slip into her voice. "And your peons never found it." One of the peons shifted, piqued by Ahsoka's description. The General stepped closer. Ahsoka debated between backing up and giving him the vestige of victory, or standing her ground and having to endure him in her personal space. She chose to stand resolute and locked stares with him when he leaned in.

"Show me," he said. His eyes were definitely not organic.

"No way," she said stubbournly, "you'll just take it away. If I'm going to die," she swallowed and turned her head a fraction, baring her fangs, "I'm going to die wearing it, like I should." The General straightened up and backed off. Ahsoka wasn't sure if that constituted a win on her part since she wasn't actually trying to intimidate anyone and he was probably impervious to it anyway, but she felt her confidence bolstered.

"Lord Vader will want it," he said slowly, letting his words sink in, "And I expect he would recognize it." His gaze fell to the leather thong looped around her neck. With one durasteel digit, he lifted the pendent free from her collar. "Even if it were in pieces."

Ahsoka jerked back from him, pulling the crystal out of his grasp, struggling to quell the up-welling of fury, shame, loss, grief, hatred- everything she shouldn't feel but did anyway.

The two guards looked at each other and the male one shrugged. "Hey, I'm not a cop," he said by way of defense. Grievous shot a venomous glance over his shoulder and the man wilted.

"Search her," he ordered and stalked for the door at the far end of the hold. Ahsoka glared at the guards. The male one- not a cop- directed his gaze anywhere but her.

"It'll be easier if you just hand over all the pieces," said the woman. She was human, short and stocky, with dark skin and masses of tawny hair caught in a messy ponytail. If it hadn't been for her smartly pressed Imperial uniform and her confident hold on the blaster, she would have looked civilian.

Ahsoka debated. On the one hand, if she were defiant and stubbourn she would feel better about herself being taken captive. Fighting back always made her feel better. And it wasn't like she was going to be treated any better if she did cooperate. If they really were taking her to Lord Vader, it was a one-way trip. On the other hand, if it were a one way trip, why bother fighting at all?

She sighed. "Fine. I'll give you the parts. But I need to be able to use my hands."

The guards exchanged a glance, then the man stepped forward and unlocked the binders. With the woman's gun inches from her face, Ahsoka sat down.

Slowly she began to unlace her boots. Their metal greaves were fashionable amongst the more rebellious, nomadic youth culture and went un-noticed on a daily basis. She slid them carefully out of the grooves in the leather and set them aside. Then she turned the boots over, unscrewed the false heels and emptied two resistors and a handful of miscellaneous parts beside the shin guards. Putting her boots back on, she worked the rivets on her pants loose, followed by the tongue of her belt buckle. Off came all of her jewelry: lip stud, rings, apparently tacky bracelets. Finally, she removed the leather cord around her neck and unstrung the crystal and it's casement.

"There," she said quietly. She didn't resist as the male guard re-secured the binders around her wrists.

"That's all of it?" said the woman, surprised. "Thought there'd be more to one of those things."

"Actually," said the man, gently gathering everything Ahsoka had shed into the untucked hem of his tunic, "lightsabres are fairly simple in design. Constructing one and then using it is the hard part. I've always wondered about the power source…" He held up the crystal and turned it curiously back and forth. Ahsoka watched him, detatched. She remembered picking out the crystal, that one specifically, the only one that felt just right to her, and painstakingly following the instructions given to her by her Master. She wasn't very good at making or fixing machinery and it had taken her days of frustration and meditation to construct it to Skywalker's expectations. It had never failed her, so long as she held it.

Now she was giving it away.

"What… what are you going to do with me?"

The male guard hurried for the door, blaster dangling hap-hazardly from his hip.

"Suul ordered us to catch you. He tracked you to this world," replied the female guard.

"That's it?" she said.

"Need-to-know basis. I don't need to know. You don't need to know."

"Yes I do! I'm the one something awful is going to happen to! At least let me prepare myself. Where are we going?" The woman shook her head, but didn't meet Ahsoka's pleading gaze. Something occurred to her. "Suul's the one in charge? Not Grievous?"

The guard grumbled something in the pit of her throat. "No more talking."

"Ha! So how'd he get demoted? Thwarted by Jedi one too many times? Or did he finally backhand the wrong person?"

In response, the guard flipped the visor of her helmet down and assumed a rigid military stance.

"Because, you know, I was off the map for a while there. That salvage freighter didn't get any inter-stellar reception beyond basic communication and that was _if_ it was working. The last reliable thing I heard Grievous kidnapped the Chancellor- back when Sideous was still the Chancellor, not the Emperor- and then lost him. I guess that would destroy a career pretty fast. But I heard rumours he'd been killed somewhere in the Outer Rim." Ahsoka continued to chatter, hoping eventually to wear down the guards discipline. "I mean, no one knew for sure, with the Jedi going rogue and being hunted down and the Galactic Empire and the clone troopers supporting the Emperor and the entire Seperatist movement totally _vanishing_- huh. I wonder what they did with all the battle droids. You don't see those anymore."

Ahsoka nattered stream-of-consciousness until her mouth was dry but the woman didn't say or do anything else. Eventually, Suul came and relieved her. He leaned against the bulkhead across the hold from Ahsoka and appeared to be enthralled by the data pad in his hands. She could see his eyes moving back and forth over the text but every once and a while he'd cease. She was being evaluated.

"I need to use the 'fresher," she said abruptly. It was true, but more over, she needed an icebreaker. Wordlessly, Suul unclipped her cable from the wall and directed her to the restroom at the far end of the hold. Ahsoka debated asking him to unbind her hands but thought better of it. Thankfully, he stayed outside.

"Wai told me you mentioned being 'off the map for a while'," he said, voice muffled by the door.

"Wai mentioned something about you being in command, not the General," she replied.

Stalemate.

"Do you know why we captured you?"

"I assume it has something to do with- with my past," she said bitterly. "And I tried to ask that Wai lady but she said it was a 'need to know basis'."

"Wai doesn't need to know."

"Well I do."

"You already know."

"No I don't, no one's told me anything."

"You're smarter than that, aren't you?"

Ahsoka finished her business and came out of the 'fresher frowning. Suul asked her several more questions all along the same line, but she sat with her back against the wall and said nothing. Finally, she lapsed into sleep, still frowning and miserable.

"I like him better when he's switched off," wailed Isaac, stomping into the bridge of the small transport craft. Wai snorted.

"Oh grow a pair, Isaac," she said, "Can you do your job without all the complaining?"

"No. If I didn't complain, I would probably turn into a psychotic, life-threatening monster and you really don't need a second one on board."

"What did the General do now?" asked Suul, not bothering to look up from his data pad. Wai thought he was reading a debriefing; it was actually a thriller novel. He had some sympathy for Isaac- he was both the only person capable of doing his job and also the least suited for it. Back when the Geonosians had first constructed Greivous' body and wired up his few remaining organs, someone from on high- now identified as the Galactic Emperor- had insisted that a team of human cyber-technicians be trained to perform the General's repairs and upgrades. Sideous' blanket dislike of races other than human was no secret now, so this act didn't surprise Suul. The fact that Isaac, who was afraid of his own cat, had been designated to the General's upkeep did surprise him. On the other hand, fear of retribution from Grievous should he screw up- sometimes vague and ominous, sometimes vividly described- kept Isaac working at the top of his game.

"He took the girl's lightsabre from me!"

"He what?" Suul was sitting up instantly, book forgotten.

"Four hours ago!"

"What?!"

"I had all the parts on my bench and I left for like _five seconds_ to download a schematic from the archival computer. I came back and he told me to get out."

"So you did?" said Wai sardonically. Isaac made frantic gestures.

"There's not enough money in the galaxy for me to try taking a lightsabre away from _that guy_."

"Four hours ago?"

"He locked the blast door in the corridor."

"Your comm?"

"It was in my work room!"

"Wait a moment- Isaac, you're supposed to be in the hold. It's your turn to watch the captive."

All three bolted for the cargo hold.

Ahsoka was not asleep. She was lying on her side, her back to the room, eyes focused moodily on the wall. What was she supposed to do? She had no friends any more, no allies, no awe-inspiring order of protectors and teachers and _family_. The months on the freighter hadn't been this bad because the crew had known what she was and didn't care. They liked her, lightsabre or not and when the Temple had been stormed and the HoloNet had broadcast images of fire and destruction and horror, they'd stood with her, just as appalled and baffled.

Being on her own, truly alone, was unfamiliar in the worst way.

"Padawan."

Ahsoka rolled swiftly to her feet, instinctively reaching with the Force for the General behind her to discern his intent. He was holding her lightsabre- her complete, intact lightsabre. Ahsoka's lip curled. She shouldn't have been angry, but she was mad at herself for giving it up so easily and at him for holding it just beyond her grasp.

"That's mine!" she said indignantly and shrugged her shoulders violently, rattling the cable.

"Prove it," he said and tossed the weapon towards her. Ahsoka whirled, visualizing the sabre's trajectory, its weight, the cold, comforting feel of the casing in her hands, and caught it behind her back, clumsily. But she didn't let go.

Ahsoka ignited the blade and sheared through her restraints just as the trio of Imperials burst through the door at the far end of the hold. Wai raised her blaster and took three shots in rapid succession. Ahsoka batted two of them aside without shifting her attention off Grievous. The General deflected the third.

"Oh crap," sighed Wai as the cyborg and Padawan lunged at each other, raining colourful sparks from their clashing blades. For several seconds, the trio stood rooted to the spot, Isaac in terror, Wai in shock and Suul with a look of grave disappointment.

"General!" he barked, "You will stand down!" Grievous, predictably, ignored him.

Ahsoka ducked under a furious swing and swiped at the cyborg's legs, then bounded sideways as the General turned his parry into a thrust. Wai shot at her again, firing stun blasts. As she wove her way cautiously sideways, she blocked the shots easily, old muscle memories shaking off years of disuse. Grievous had only one sword- abnormal for him in Ahsoka's experience- but that didn't mean he had only one weapon. She paid attention to where he put his feet, the reach of his arms and how he shifted his weight.

"General!" yelled Suul and unholstered his blaster.

"Good luck," chirped Ahsoka and had to make a hurried vertical leapt to keep herself in one piece. She somersaulted over the General's head, bringing her sword around in an attempt to decapitate him- or at least slice off one of those sensor panels. That might slow him down. He blocked her with lightning speed. She sprang forward out of the crouch she had barely landed, uncoiling full length as Grievous turned to parry her.

The General grabbed her sword hand, crushing her fingers against the lightsabre and making it impossible for her to rotate her wrist enough to lop off his hand as she had once done. Still, she kicked and thrashed, vainly yanked at his own blade with the Force and bared her fangs bravely.

Grievous dropped her abruptly and hooked the lightsabre away before she could turn it on him. It skittered across the decking, extinguished. Wai pounced on it. Then Grievous took two steps back and if an immobile, featureless face could look smug, he looked _damned_ smug. Ahsoka desperately tried to keep from throwing a punch. Anger was not the Jedi way and besides, punching him would just hurt her and amuse him.

"General!"

Grievous was still ignoring Suul's increasingly-angry attempts to get his attention. "How disappointing," he said, flourishing the blade that remained lit within his grasp. "Apparently you still require training. Too bad there isn't anyone left to do it."

Ahsoka was dangerously close to discovering how to generate Force lightning without any training. Her breath hissed through clenched teeth as she strove to calm herself. _Do not answer him, do not-_

"General, _now_." Suul was fuming. He pointed to the door. "Unless you want this breach of conduct on your permanent record." The General huffed at Ahsoka one final time, tossed his cape back over one shoulder and strutted out of the hold. Suul followed him, jaw muscles twitching with rage.

Isaac approached Ahsoka carefully. "Let me put the restraints back on," he said. His voice was surprisingly gentle. He looked terrified to her, but he was consciously subduing it. She flicked her gaze to Wai, knuckles gone white gripping Ahsoka's lightsabre.

"No," she said, and folded her arms over her chest. There were only three of them- not counting the General, who she would deal with later- and none of them were remotely Force sensitive. Wai was a decent shot but even without the lightsabre, Ahsoka knew how to dodge blaster-bolts. It was a skill ingrained in her by relentless war. Re-acquiring her sword was just a matter of moving fast and unpredictably.

"No, forget it. You're not putting those things on me again," she said and charged at Isaac, hands balling into hard little fists.


	2. A Dangerous Mind

**A/N: It liiiiiiiiives! Giant delay in updating can be blamed on a potent mix of brutal full-time job, World of Warcraft and the fact it's nice outside. Enjoy!**

**Chapter Two – A Dangerous Mind**

Six minutes later, Ahsoka was heaving a closet door shut on two unconscious bodies. Breathing hard, she clipped her lightsabre to her belt and reached out in the Force, looking for Suul and the General. Suul was easy to find; he was furious. He showed up like a little sun in the web of life-signs Ahsoka could read. Grievous was not so easy to locate, which Ahsoka attributed to his composition. Sensing machines was more difficult than sensing organic creatures because they weren't alive and Grievous was mostly mechanical. He had used that fact to the detriment of the Jedi during the Clone Wars, ambushing the unwary and the inexperienced.

Ahsoka did not assume that finding Suul meant finding the General, so she approached the Special Forces man carefully, always on high alert for the slightest flutter in the fabric of the Force. For a creature that weighed three hundred pounds and was mostly metal, Grievous could be disturbingly stealthy.

Around the corner, Suul was leaning on a control panel, fists clenched, shoulders stiff with anger.

"Captain," said Suul and Ahsoka realized he was communicating with someone, "he is impossible to control. This isn't worth it. We have both been exemplary officers; there is no need for this sort of caper."

"Without this kind of caper," said the terminal, "we'll be looking at promotions sometime in the next ten years. Bring the General back to Sideous, along with Vader's missing padawan? We'll be commanding our own battleships that very afternoon."

Suul was shaking his head. "I'm telling you, I think I'd rather wait the ten years. I may not be alive by the end of the week if things keep going like this."

"Five more days til we rendezvous, Suul. If all else fails, have your weird little tech guy shut him down, knock out the Jedi girl and it'll be smooth sailing."

"You're right, Arveth. I can't deal with him when he's awake. The girl's no trouble; she's got no fight left in her now and Wai has her lightsabre."

"Lightsabre? My intel indicated she no longer had it."

Suul snorted. "She did. She took it apart and incorporated all the pieces into her clothes. Completely undetectable."

"And you allowed her to re-assemble it- oh no. Wait. Let me guess. The lab rat did it."

"Isaac? No. _Grievous_ did it."

"You're kidding me."

"I wish I were."

"How the blazing hell did-"

"Don't even ask. Anyway, you're right, I'm still in. I'll go get Isaac to switch off the General and I'll see you in five days. Reise out."

The second Suul turned away from the control panel, Ahsoka launched herself. To her surprise, he managed to dodge her first strike, dropped to the floor and rolled sideways. She stared at him around the blade of her lightsabre.

"You're actually trying to kill me," he said, incredulous.

"Why shouldn't I be?" said Ahsoka, playing the part, "You took me prisoner, you were going to hand me over to Darth Vader, who would have killed me, and you're doing it all for a promotion!"

"Believe me," said Suul, "I am more valuable to you alive."

Ahsoka made a face, letting him think she found his offer distasteful, and threw her lightsabre. As she had predicted he would, he ducked under it and came right at her, blaster appearing in his grip. Before he got off a shot, however, Ahsoka kicked him in the temple. He slumped to the floor, out cold. She called her sword back with the Force, re-attached it to her belt- the weight on her hip already felt _right_ again- then hooked her hands under Suul's arms and started hauling him to the closet.

When she arrived, she was surprised to find Isaac awake.

"Please don't kill me!" he squeaked.

"I'm not going to kill you," she replied and pushed Suul unceremoniously inside with his cronies. She turned to close the door.

"Wait, please! I'm not- I mean, I am but not really, but- but I'm- I'm a civilian. I-if you send me back to Lord Vader like this, he'll kill me. I- I have information!"

"What am I going to do with this information?" said Ahsoka tiredly. "I'm all by myself. There's no Jedi Council to spy for, there's no one in the Galaxy who'll use it to fix all the crap that's happened, or depose the Emperor."

"L-lots of people will pay for military secrets. Mercenaries. Hutts. Bounty hunters."

"Not really the crowd I feel I should be empowering."

"W-well, what about you?"

"What about me what?"

"Maybe you c-could use this information to stay one step ahead of the Imperials."

Ahsoka mulled this over. She narrowed her eyes, then yanked Isaac out of the closet. She had one hand on his collar, but the majority of yanking was done with the Force, making her seem much stronger than she was physically. This was an intimidation technique she'd perfected as a young lone girl who spent most of her time in seamy, questionable parts of large cities. It worked splendidly.

"What do you know?" she said.

"Locations… locations of listening posts, weapons depots, shipyards, training facilities. Regular routes taken by fleet patrols in most sectors. Planets they don't care about and ones they do. I have lists of civilian employees a-and spies. And I have," he swallowed nervously, "design schematics for Lord Vader's cybernetic parts. M-maybe you could find a flaw."

"The flaw is in his mind," said Ahsoka in a stony voice. "He turned to the Dark side of the Force. That's his flaw."

"O-okay, sorry, I think in physical stuff, n-not metaphysical."

Ahsoka was amazed. As the list of Isaac's secret knowledge had grown, she had kept her will focused on discerning any deception. There was none. He wasn't lying.

"How can you possibly know all of this stuff? What are you?"

Isaac twitched. "I'm a cybernetics technician. I work for General Grievous. And I… before that, I spent a lot of time, uh, illegally accessing information. It's sort of a hobby. I like to read."

Ahsoka pursed her lips. "So you're a hacker. And you don't think that if you tell me all these things, Grievous isn't going to find out and wreak savage, bloody vengeance on you?"

"I was hoping you might… help me."

Ahsoka sighed. "Look, Isaac, I'm not a Jedi Knight. I never was. I'm a padawan. And I never finished my training. It kills a part of me to admit this, but General Grievous is a better swordsman than I am. I can't protect you from him."

"That isn't what I meant," said Isaac, "I know some things about the General because I was there when… well, uh, when they happened. I'm not much of a fighter. I don't like conflict and I hate standing up to people- it makes me queasy. When the war started, I-"

"Hold on," said Ahsoka, "Back up to the part where you're going to tell me a bunch of secret Imperial stuff and Grievous isn't going to stomp you into pudding for doing it."

"The Empire doesn't know Grievous is alive."

"Though interesting, that doesn't answer my question."

"Wait for me to finish. Grievous doesn't know that the Galactic Emperor is Lord Sideous."

"What? That's preposterous! It's been three years! What's he been doing?"

"Uh, he's been kind of… dead."

Ahsoka blinked. "Kind of dead?"

Isaac shrugged. "Well, sort of. The technical term is 'cryptobiosis'. Suspended animation."

"I do the metaphysical, not the physical," said Ahsoka, shaking her head.

"The General was built with a failsafe, so that if someone did manage to critically damage his body, including his remaining organ systems, his _brain_ would survive. The Geonosians programmed it, i-it's brilliant. There's a list of critical incidences from drowning to poisoning to radioactive exposure to bombs of every sort- anyway, what actually happened to him wasn't very exciting comparatively. Your Master Kenobi shot him repeatedly in the chest and abdomen with a blaster. The shots instantly ignited the fluids in the gutsack containing the General's organs. From what I could tell by examining the pattern of carbonization, his internal organs boiled, and because his spinal column was encased in the same fluid, it conducted the fire up into his skull, blew out his eyes-"

"Seriously, I hate the guy- but gross. Just tell me how he survived."

"One of the critical incidences was intense heat penetration. The millisecond the first blaster bolt punched through into his gutsack and ignited the fluid, a temperature sensor alerted the failsafe program and it severed the connection from the General's brain to the rest of his body. Simultaneously, it initiated a localized forcefield, kept his brain technically alive with a tertiary power supply and broadcast a mayday to his medical staff." Isaac paused to breathe. His shoulders sagged forward. "There were six of us that went down to retrieve him, about eight hours after death. We were instructed to bring back only his brain- the rest of his tissues were destroyed anyway. We brought him- it- back aboard our ship- just a typical medical frigate- and put him- it- in stasis while we rebuilt his body. Understandably, the entire galaxy thought he was dead."

"Too bad you're all good at your jobs," said Ahsoka, though she was impressed. "And you just woke him up now? Why?"

"We were attacked!"

"Why would you-"

"No, not now, back then. We were attacked right after retrieving him."

"I thought you said you were on a medical frigate."

"We were. But the confusion- clone troopers turning on the Jedi, the Emperor proclaiming himself Emperor, the Jedi purge beginning- being a non-combatant nobody _sucked_. We got caught in the cross-fire between two ships- a droid ship and a clone ship. I guess the droids hadn't gotten the message they were on the same side. But we took heavy fire, the ship was badly damaged. And we were all under strict orders not to let anyone know the General wasn't actually dead. The only two people we were ever supposed to contact were Count Dooku and Lord Sideous. Dooku was dead and Sideous was busy proclaiming himself Emperor so… we kind of got… forgotten."

"Ooooooh," said Ahsoka. "Grievous would be pissed if he heard that."

"Indeed. And Sideous never came looking for us. We got the ship fixed- mostly- and just waited for a communication. We rebuilt the General's body- even made some modifications-"

Ahsoka groaned. "I'm just going to assume he's harder to kill now."

"Well, yeah."

"Thanks a bunch."

"It's my job."

"So after that...?"

"Well, we lost contact with the Geonosians- they're the ones who really know the General's systems inside and out. We just sat at the spaceport where we had docked for repairs and waited. And waited. And eventually some of the crew gave up and left. I stayed behind because I didn't know what else to do, plus I got a pretty good job with the spaceport authorities fixing some of their more delicate computer systems. You have to be good at computers to be good at cybernetics."

"And you never woke up the General?"

"Are you kidding?"

"So how did that happen then?"

"Suul and Wai showed up one day. They wanted to talk to me, specifically. I guess it was because I was the only one remaining from the General's team. They ordered me to wake him up, then they ordered us both onto the ship and headed for the world where we found you."

Ahsoka pondered this. "Do you know how they found me?"

"No," said Isaac, shaking his head, "But Suul was Special Forces something _before_ there was a Galactic Empire, so I assume he has some connection to Lord Sideous."

Her skin felt suddenly cold. If Sideous had learned she was alive…

"Okay, let's go back to the beginning. You're offering me masses of information if I- what?"

"Don't kill me, for one."

"I'm a Jedi. I'm not going to kill you needlessly."

"I thought you said you were a Padawan."

"In this respect, it's the same thing. The morals are the same."

"Okay," said Isaac, sounding relieved, "And just get me the hell away from here, for two."

"Where?"

"Somewhere on the Outer Rim. Beyond it even. I don't care. I hate conflict. I can't stand seeing the galaxy like this. I just want to run away."

"I can't stand it either," said Ahsoka with a sigh, "And I want to do something, but I don't know if I can."

"Do they teach you history as a Padawan?"

"Of course."

"Well, then you gotta know what happens under a wide-spread dictatorship, historically speaking."

Ahsoka cocked her head at him. "Eventually there will be a revolution."

"Exactly! And you're a Jedi! Who better to be part of a revolution?"

Ahsoka found herself smiling. "You… you really liked the old Republic, didn't you?"

"The real old Republic, I did," said Isaac, resolutely, "Not what it turned into once Palpatine started gaining sway in the Senate. That's why I joined the Separatists. I didn't like him. Didn't know he was going to end up my boss, but then, who did?"

"No one," said Ahsoka, "Absolutely no one saw that coming. Man, we were blind."

"So you'll help me then?"

"Yes Isaac, I'll help you. Though you're a pretty useful guy to have around. I wish you'd stay for the revolution."

"Can't stand conflict, remember?"

"Yeah," said Ahsoka and frowned, "Speaking of, what should we do with the General?"

"Uh, well. Look, I just got this idea, so it might need a little polish, but hear me out. Originally, I was going to ask you to duel him but if you don't think you can win-"

"I could distract him and you could shoot him! From behind. With a rocket launcher. Repeatedly. Oh! Or there's the airlock-"

"-but then I thought about what you said and… oh gods of my people, please don't hurt me… I thought maybe you could, uh… ask him to teach you more about lightsabre combat."

Isaac cringed away, but Ahsoka only stared at him, open-mouthed. After a full minute, she came back to herself, blinked and shut her mouth. "Isaac, I'm sure that makes logical sense to you, but that _creature_ murdered people I knew and cared about. His whole purpose was to destroy us. And you saw what happened in here! He'd be happy to finish me off!"

"But there's things about himself he doesn't know, things that I do."

"Unless you know some magic word to turn his personality inside out, I don't think that's gonna fly."

"Not magic, neurology."

"And even if you do _magically_ convince him not to kill me- or you- he's still General Grievous and he's still loyal to Lord Sideous."

Isaac bit his lip, then rearranged himself into a cross-legged posture. "Not for long, if I know him as well as I think I do."

"How well can you know him?"

"Dooku gave me everything they had compiled on the General, including who he was _before_ the cybernetics. And I was there when we retrieved him from Utapau, and by retrieved I mean opened his skull with a drill and a screwdriver and slopped his brain into a bucket of bacta."

"So? And?"

"Dooku was responsible for the shuttle crash that crippled Grievous and then told him it was the Jedi's fault. When he saw the General was healing better than expected, Dooku destroyed his body further so he would have to comply with the cybernetics. He ordered the Geonosians to alter the General's brain to increase aggressiveness and subdue memories of his previous existence. But that previous existence is the key- Grievous was a warrior from birth practically. He was famous among his people, he was proud and brave and honourable. He wasn't the kind of person who would take kindly to being played by someone like Sideous. If he ever learned that Dooku engineered his hatred of the Jedi while being the actual responsible party, or if he knew Sideous used him as a mere _distraction_ to further his goals, Grievous would be furious. And vengeful. He takes his war very seriously."

Ahsoka sat back on her haunches, head spinning. She had never thought of Grievous as honourable _or_ brave, given that he was infamous for last-minute escapes from bad situations. But he was a warrior of no small reknown: a Force-blind half-machine maniac who had managed to kill Jedi Masters with their own weapons. She had to give him credit for that.

"And there's enough of the logical part of his mind left to make him understand this," Isaac continued. "Dooku had to leave him somewhat rational because he valued the General's strategic creativity."

"But he's a jerk!" she protested. Isaac was making too much sense. From an emotionless, purely logical, survival perspective Grievous was the _only_ person alive that could teach her anything about lightsabre combat. And if there was to be a revolution, there would be combat. "Oh Force no! What makes you think that even if you tell him all this and he doesn't obliterate us both in a fit of rage, he'd be willing to teach me?"

"Come on, he has an ego the size of a Super Star Destroyer! Pride would make him willing. He would _love_ to have an apprentice, it would make him feel so superior! Plus, you did say you cut off his hand once. He'd also probably enjoy humiliating you by being your teacher, and therefore automatically your better."

"Aauuuuuugh…" said Ahsoka, despairing. "What makes you think _I_ would be willing to learn from him?"

Isaac slouched a bit and looked toward the closet. "Because you were ready to give up on yourself until he gave you back your lightsabre and challenged you. He reminded you that you are a Jedi."

Ahsoka bit her lip and gazed at Isaac, looking through him as logic and prejudice warred within her. "Oh _balls_," she said emphatically. _He's right._

Obi-Wan Kenobi had been living a squalid, miserable existence for three years. Now he understood the animosity his former student had felt for his homeworld. It was unbearably hot for one, and seemed to be a catch-all planet for the luckless, loveless, penniless, hopeless portion of the galactic population for two. Just going in to town for necessities left Obi-Wan depressed and maudlin. It seemed that the Galactic Empire held as little interest for the people of Tatooine as the old Republic had, though Obi-Wan didn't delude himself into believing the opportunists wouldn't turn him over to Palpatine if they suspected he was a Jedi Master. So he kept to himself in his cave in the desert and meditated on the Force and on his failure as a teacher and on the future, such as it was. He knew Master Yoda was out there, on Dagobah, doing much the same thing. Somewhere far away, on Alderaan, Anakin Skywalker's daughter was growing up with a Senator. And several miles of arid hell away from Obi-Wan, Anakin's son was toddling around, pretending to help his adoptive parents with the farm chores, oblivious to his heritage.

Obi-Wan sighed. Little Luke was the bright spark of hope for him. He watched the boy from afar, occasionally running into Owen or Beru in Mos Eisley and politely inquiring about their family. They were wary people, made so by their fellow citizens and the planet itself, but they looked on Obi-Wan as a harmless man, though strange.

Sometimes the spirit of his old Master would visit him. When Qui-Gon Jinn appeared, Obi-Wan felt a deep sense of peace. There was no end to life, as it were, just a greater understanding of the Force. Qui-Gon always had advice for him, or consoling words if Obi-Wan was dwelling too much on Anakin, and he seemed to be waiting for something each time he visited. Obi-Wan would not assume his cagey old Master was simply waiting for the day Luke Skywalker realized he had a gift, or the moment when the galaxy wouldn't take any more injustice from its new leader. Those were the things Obi-Wan waited for, but Qui-Gon has always been one with a tendency to see little pieces of a larger puzzle that others missed the importance of.

One morning, as Obi-Wan perused his meager food supplies and decided it was time for another depressing jaunt into Mos Eisley, something flickered alive within the Force like a struggling match. Obi-Wan paused. He concentrated on the tiny flame of consciousness, waiting to see what it did. It did not burn out. It did not brighten. But it stayed alight and it steadied itself and Obi-Wan found himself feeling the same sense of peace and comfort he found in Qui-Gon's presence. This wasn't a Force ghost. It was a living person, a speck of life, and it was definitely Force sensitive.

Obi-Wan sat down and pondered. He knew other Masters had escaped the Purge and maybe other knights and padawans. At least, he hoped. But for him to sense another Jedi, considering his great distance from the bright centre of everything, meant one of two things: either this person was immensely powerful in the Force, or he knew them. The trouble was he felt he _did_ know this person, very well. Or rather, that he had known them. Part of him was rejoicing in this illogical fact; another part of him was saying that it was impossible because Ahsoka Tano had died during the Clone War…

Although Grievous loathed being mistaken for a droid, it did tend to lull people into thinking he was unintelligent. Living creatures made a lot of subconscious assumptions based on expressions and body language and unless someone was very intent on picking up Grievous' finer moods, they found him extremely difficult to read and dismissed him. It irritated him enormously, but he resigned himself to finding a way to use it. He had. When meetings with the Trade Federation or the Separatist leaders dragged on and Dooku demanded his imposing presence (though rarely his opinion), Grievous practiced. After a certain amount of time standing quiet and immobile, even the most up-tight Nemoidians forgot he was there. In a world where mechanized help was everywhere, one assumed things about machines. One assumed they were there to serve, but especially, one assumed they did not think for themselves.

Patience was another virtue few credited him with, but patience was the domain of the hunter and before Grevious was a warrior, he was a hunter. The knowledge was so ingrained that not even the shuttle crash had been able to shake that from his memory.

Which brought him back to the reason he was crouched in the corridor, just out of sight of the two chattering life-forms in the middle of the floor. _Dooku rigged the shuttle crash._ Grievous hadn't just lost his body in the accident. He had lost his closest companions, his life-long friends, protectors, comrades in arms. _Dooku lied to me._ Well, that wasn't a huge surprise- Grievous had no illusions about the Sith. He knew they were under-handed, ruthless and selfish. That was all fine so long as it were directed around him, not at him. He respected that kind of dedication.

Except when it involved him.

_Lord Sideous- the Emperor._ Sideous had played the entire galaxy against itself. He had created a war where the out-come was already known, carefully planned and executed. The droid army was his- the clones were his- the Senate was his- Anakin Skywalker was his. _No wonder Dooku's death didn't bother him_. Sideous must have had his sights set on Skywalker for a long time. Dooku was just another pawn. There was an immense amount of respect to be had for the man who had so gracefully engineered galactic catastrophe, but Grievous could barely see it. All he could see was himself, foolishly doing that man's bidding.

For a moment, utter humiliation overcame Grievous and he clenched his fists with such force the mechanisms ground against each other. It wasn't the fact he had been used- there was nothing wrong with being the commander of an army, answerable to those above you. Grievous respected the chain of command, such as it was. No, it was fact that he had been given command of a _droid_ army, equating him with mindless cannon fodder and forgetting him in the end along with all the other droids. Had he been organic still, he would have been grinding his teeth, every muscle taut and shaking with fury. As it were, he was giving himself a rather brutal headache.

_Increased aggression_. No wonder he couldn't keep his thoughts in one place for longer than a few minutes unless he was alone. Everything annoyed him- especially the battle droids. The fact that anyone might mistake for something so wholly mindless and pathetic made him seethe.

The irony of being angry about being angry was not completely lost on him. It was self-perpetuating, a snake devouring its tail. He struggled to find something else to concentrate on, something dull, something that couldn't possibly aggravate him, but Grievous' entire situation- laid bare by the spineless technician babbling all his secrets to the Padawan- gave him fresh avenues of rage. His friends were dead and he was alive because Sideous had needed a puzzle piece. He had been given a command and a mission because Sideous needed an antagonist, a faceless, monstrous, _inhuman_ antagonist to put fear in the hearts of the most venerated people in the galaxy.

That gave him a small sense of pride. At least he had been good at his job.

But now the human was talking again and Grievous stood up straight, affronted by the man's casual demeanour. _He presumes to know me. He is wrong._ Not entirely wrong, Grievous reflected, but wrong enough to merit setting straight. He drew the only lightsabre he had left from behind him- and stopped. The Padawan was speaking. Grievous had been hugely surprised to see her, though his mechanical nature hid that too. All accounts of Skywalker's apprentice said she had died in a dogfight over some fairly useless remote listening post. He hadn't been at the battle, but the droids had been victorious and informed him that the Jedi had retreated without searching for survivors. The droids of course had swept the system for life-pods, but they too had found nothing.

"Why are you still alive?" he growled as he stepped slowly around the corner, eyes fixed on the girl. She was on her feet in a flash, sword blazing in her hands, a mix of fear and determination evident in the hard set of her jaw. Grievous had become adept at reading the body language of others, perhaps out of jealousy.

"I'm lucky," she snapped, blue eyes narrowing. _What a bizarre colour for eyes._ He couldn't think of any creature native to his world with blue eyes.

Grievous chuckled. "Lucky?" he said, stalking closer, "You consider yourself lucky because your piloting skills failed you? Because your friends left the system before they could find you? Lucky because your plucky clone warriors were nowhere near you when they received Order 66? Or lucky because your beloved Master already thought you were dead, so he never bothered coming to kill you himself?"

"Rrrraaaaaugh!" Ahsoka hurled herself at him. It wasn't the sort of attack he normally associated with Jedi- it was sheer, unadulterated, animal rage. He backed up and let her slash and stab at him, batting her sword around carelessly. It only made her angrier. She was rapidly losing control, all the skill and finesse trained into her thrown aside. The stylish reverse grip she favoured was given up for a rough, two-handed approach, all power and no grace. She stomped down hard, planting her feet, coming at him directly, fangs bared.

"I was _lucky_!" she shouted and slashed haphazardly, leaving herself wide open. Grievous ignored the invitation. "I was lucky your droids were such bad shots! Lucky they were too lazy to find me! Lucky the freighter heard my distress signal! Lucky they didn't care I was a Jedi! LUCKY ANAKIN THOUGHT I WAS DEAD!"

She lunged, lightsabre leading the way, desperate to strike him. Grievous side-stepped past her shoulder, pivoted and kicked her. It wasn't much of a kick, aimed at her hip to knock her off balance and infuriate her further. She staggered and to his surprise, went down on one knee. The motion seemed to leach some of her anger away, though her blue eyes were still ferocious.

"Well," said Isaac timidly, entirely forgotten by both combatants, "you agree on something."

Ahsoka got to her feet and shrugged her shoulders, taking a deep breath to calm herself. "I guess it would have been better if I _slept_ through everything," she hissed and shot Grievous a withering glare. Then she looked away. "Though that wouldn't make the galaxy a better place when I woke up…"

"Which is what we should be talking about- the galaxy-"

Grievous lowered his head and turned to give Isaac his full attention for a second. He didn't even have to say anything. The human scuttled back against the wall and looked like he might feel safer in the closet to his left. The Padawan took that opportunity to close the gap between them. She was less wild now, but still predictable. Grievous uncoupled his lower arm and struck her sword hand, keeping her blade at bay with the lightsabre in his upper fist. She lost her grip, fingers probably numbed by the blow, and stumbled sideways. Grievous spun, snatched up her sword with the toes of his right foot and towered over her triumphantly.

"Hmph," he said and twirled her lightsabre between his fingers. "I suppose you didn't have much chance to practice in the last three years. If anything, you're worse than before."


	3. Courage

_A/N: Another chapter! :O For those wondering, no, this story is not dead. It will never be dead. It just rests near the bottom of a long list of priorities. I will continue to update faithfully, if sporadically._

**Chapter 3 : Courage**

Darth Vader was preoccupied with something. Sidious watched his apprentice and measured his responses. It wasn't something purely military or there would be more hollering and threats. Nothing inspired efficiency and loyalty like a little terror. No, the military aspects of the new Empire were moving along according to plan so the preoccupation dogging the Dark Lord rose from a different source.

It was something personal then, since there wasn't much to Lord Vader except military and personal anymore. Sidious had sensed it too, but he hadn't said anything, waiting to see when his apprentice would pick up on the struggling Force-sensitive identity that had flickered into existence a week ago. Sidious wasn't terribly curious about the person- young, untrained, alien and distant: he didn't care. It was no threat. But he was correct to believe it would be of interest to Darth Vader. The Dark Lord saw this faraway person as a challenge to his personal dominion, and Sidious didn't wonder if perhaps Vader saw any Force-sensitive individual as a potential rival. He had by now figured out that Dooku had once been Sidious' lieutenant only to end up dead, a pawn in a struggle for ever greater power. Vader was smart enough to realize that if someone else better, stronger, more _valuable_ showed up, he would follow in Dooku's footsteps.

Since this vague presence was doing nothing overtly spectacular or hostile, Vader could do little more than dwell on it. Sideous toyed with the idea of fabricating a mission into that portion of space to see if his apprentice could suss out the alien, but decided against it. He had become a great judge of potential and no one yet could rival Vader's fearsome command of the Force. It was best not to waste that resource for his own amusement.

What Sideous had failed to sense, or didn't care to acknowledge, was Vader's growing sense of unease. A week ago this individual had popped onto his mental radar un-announced. At first he was curious, then he was angry, then he became wary. It wasn't just _someone_. It was someone he knew. He could tell this much and it bothered him. Force-sensitive people who spent time together became accustomed to the particular 'signature' of their companions. It was the mental version of standing in a crowded spaceport and being able to pick out your brother, or your best friend, or your lover because of their posture, or the way they walked, or held their luggage. The person Vader was sensing was familiar enough to him that he could tell he knew them, but he couldn't pin down their exact identity.

A Jedi. That much was certain. One who had escaped the Purge, fled to the Outer Rim worlds where tolerance or apathy or ignorance afforded them protection from the ceaseless hunting of the Empire. But how could they simply… appear?

More than the existence of this person was the uncomfortable notion that they had been there all along and he hadn't noticed. Vader pondered a variety of reasons: perhaps they had been injured, in a coma even, and only now awakened. That would account for their sudden visibility. Perhaps they had been beyond his range of Force-sensitivity and recently ventured closer toward the center of the galaxy and his perception.

One theory bothered him more than the others. What if this person had been awake and nearby all along and simply managed to hide their identity until now? Who did he know capable of that level of deception? How could they do it?

And what had changed?

Ahsoka had taken to sleeping in the heating ducts. It was bad enough that Grievous had stolen her lightsabre- _again _- and chased her from one end of the ship to the other with it. Now he had commandeered the little craft, alternately muttering to himself in a language she didn't recognize and bellowing threats indiscriminately while holding the three humans more-or-less hostage. Isaac was somewhat less of a hostage than Wai and Suul, but he was probably more afraid of the General than the other two.

From what she had managed to gather, Grievous was mad, confused, vengeful and had no idea what to do next. She surmised that most of the muttering was Grievous talking things out with himself. If anything, he seemed more unpredictable and unhinged than he had when she encountered him previously. It was a small, significant mercy that he couldn't sense her in the Force and she was able to avoid him on the small ship while she herself figured out what to do. The other welcome and peculiar fact she discovered was that the cyborg actually _slept_.

So, with Grievous slumped in Isaac's work-room, Ahsoka slid soundlessly from the opening in the wall, quietly replaced the grate and tip-toed down the hall, senses on high alert, constantly monitoring the cyborg's wan Force-presence. The first time she had realized he was asleep she had immediately decided to kill him. No matter how fast he was, or how cunning, or how paranoid, she would be able to get her lightsabre and execute him before he could put up a fight. Or so she hoped.

Immediately after that thought, Ahsoka had been ashamed. She wouldn't kill a sleeping enemy, even one as devious and notoriously under-handed as the General. No Jedi would stoop to such petty behaviour. A terribly rational part of her mind that seemed to have evolved in the last three years without her consent suggested that she had no other choices. He wanted to kill her. The ship was only so big. That he hadn't managed to catch her yet was a testament to her ability to fit into very small spaces and stay quiet and nothing more. Jedi code or no, the logical solution to part of her immediate problem was to kill General Grievous any way she could manage.

Ahsoka reached the cargo bay, quickly hot-wired the door open and pressed her finger to her lips to shush the three humans as it closed behind her. Isaac was sitting on the floor busy with a screwdriver and an unidentifiable piece of machinery. Wai and Suul were both hand-cuffed and looking quite worse for wear.

"Where the hell've you been?" said Wai with frank incredulity. "I thought he killed you."

"Not yet," replied Ahsoka grimly. She crouched before them, one tendril of awareness still focused back on Grievous. "I need your help to take the ship from him. In exchange, I want you to let me go."

Suul and Wai looked at each other. Wai shrugged. "I didn't sign on for rotating hostage status," said the woman. She struck Ahsoka as a reasonable sort of person, for a greedy Imperial.

Suul rolled his shoulders, working the stiffness out of his joints. "This has gone more wrong than I could have imagined," he said and Ahsoka heard defeat in his voice. She crept forward. The fact that he was hand-cuffed didn't make her any less wary of Suul. He had tracked her and captured her. He was not someone she wanted to misjudge. "I will help you and let you go free- on one condition."

Ahsoka shifted, watching Isaac out of the corner of her eye. She wanted to trust him- he seemed inocuous- but she couldn't take the chance that Suul had convinced him to use that trust to undo her. The mechanic had stopped tinkering and was watching the exchange.

"What condition?" she asked. Suul pursed his lips.

"Leave the General alive. I have to get something out of this mess."

"How about you being _alive_?" said Ahsoka in astonishment. "How about going back to your job? You won't lose anything. You won't gain anything either but at least you won't be dead." Irritation put some sting in her words.

"That's my condition," said Suul stoiclly. Ahsoka struggled not to show a reaction and turned to Wai.

"And you?"

"Suul's my commander. What he orders, I do."

"You were expecting a promotion out of this too?"

"At the very least a raise."

"I see. Isaac?"

"I would be less use to you than a cardboard sword."

"I very much doubt that," said Ahsoka. Isaac glanced at the other two. "We can dump them somewhere after we get rid of Grievous and- and I'll take you to the Outer Rim myself. I promise."

Isaac looked back at his project. "Listen, Ahsoka," he began, "I feel for you. I'm not an uncaring man. But I am a coward. I know that if Greivous didn't need me, he probably would have killed me-"

"Wait. Why are you guys still alive?" said Ahsoka suddenly, gesturing to the two officers. They were hand-cuffed and locked in the cargo bay, but Grievous had done nothing to them besides grumble and threaten and then ignore them. _In the old days, he would have murdered them. Right away. And smirked about it. What's going on?_ "Hold that thought," she said and let herself out of the cargo bay. She realized that she had dropped her mental connection with the cyborg and instantly tensed, holding her breath while her heart thundered and she carefully searched the ship for his presence. _Good_. He was still in the work room. _Why does he bother sleeping? _

The morally ambiguous and practical part of her mind suggested that killing Grievous was entirely justifiable. The part of her that had grown up in the Jedi Temple and was raised to believe in things like justice and fairness asserted that she would feel guilty for the rest of her life if she did. _Okay, maybe not that long_. Though it did depend on exactly how long she lived... which depended directly on her getting off this ship and losing herself in the galaxy. How had Suul found her? If he had, who else could? Who else knew she was alive?

Ahsoka took a deep breath to calm her thoughts, readied herself for a blast of Force power and a quick sprint if need be and triggered the door to the work room.

Grievous was standing right inside, fully awake and facing her with both blades lit.

For a moment, neither of them moved or spoke. Their gazes locked. The cyborg towered over her, only inches away. He wasn't exactly in a fighting stance but his knees were bent, fists held at hip height, glowing swords crossed and pointed at the floor. Ahsoka waited, on the verge of flinging him backwards with desperate mental strength.

The moment stretched on and then they both exploded into action. Ahsoka used the Force to shove him back into the room and herself out into the hall with a yell, scrambled for traction and almost took off running except that Grievous was furiously fast. He flipped to his feet, pounced across the room in two bounds and knocked her flat with his open hand. Ahsoka tried to roll and get up but before she could one big, clawed foot came down on her back and pinned her to the floor.

"Stop fighting," he said and his voice was devoid of the blustering rage and arrogance that she had come to recognize. It was devoid of all emotion, flat and monotonous as a droid and it was terrifying. She held perfectly still. Her world contracted to the feeling of inexorable, jointed metal pressing insistently against her ribs and waist and Ahsoka knew real fear. Jedi training ebbed and was replaced with a wash of dire panic. _I'm going to die_, whirled through her mind and she franticlly imagined what it would be like to be crushed, how excrutiating, how disgusting, how humiliating, _going to die, going to die, going to die!_ She clenched her fists but they trembled. She bared her teeth but she felt tears on her cheeks.

"I don't want to die," she warbled out loud. There was a tiny whir of gears from above her.

"Then stop fighting." The voice wasn't like the Grievous she knew but it wasn't utterly mechanical either.

"I-I'm not fighting," she said and was suddenly furious with the pleading tone. The foot didn't move. "I'm not fighting!"

"I'm not going to kill you, Padawan! Stop your whimpering!" _That_ was the Grievous Ahsoka knew and suddenly her fear was gone. She struggled to get her elbows under her and growled, throwing looks of defiance at the cyborg's indistinct looming form.

"I'm not whimpering!"

He let her up. Ahsoka stumbled quickly to her feet, hands clenched into bloodless, shaking fists, teeth sinking into her lower lip to keep it from quivering. She was aware that tears spilled from her eyes and it only made her angrier. The air was fairly crackling around her.

"Your fury is unbecoming, child," he said and Ahsoka's jaw dropped open as her rage evaporated, replaced by indignance.

"I'm not a child!"

To Ahsoka's everlasting shock, the General laughed. "Yes, you are. Anyone more than fifty years younger than me is quite certainly a _child_." To complete her whirlwind of emotions, he held out her deactivated lightsabre and when she didn't immediately claim it, tossed it at her.

"What're you…" she said and looked from the sword to the cyborg. His own lightsabre he still held ignited in his other hand, though it was directed away from her. "What's going on?"

"The Jedi no longer exist. Count Dooku is dead. Lord Sideous rules the galaxy. I am no one and neither are you." Ahsoka put an extra step between them just in case, but confusion and her overwhelming, very recent fear clung to her.

"I am someone," she said with less conviction then she intended, "And I am a Jedi."

"Are you?" he said and his grip on the lightsabre twitched. Ahsoka took another involuntary step back. Grievous didn't make a move. _He has the opportunity to kill me right now. I don't think I could win if he tried. Why is he-?_

"Is what Isaac said true?" she asked suddenly.

"That Dooku lied to me and had the Geonosians tamper with my brain? Yes, as far as I can confirm with this ship's limited technology."

Ahsoka cringed. He said it in a matter-of-fact way but his mind raged against the reality as he laid it out and he wavered on his feet, lightsabre flicking towards her and then away.

"What are you going to do?" asked Ahsoka. Beyond the turmoil she could sense, Ahsoka could tell he was exerting an astounding level of control over himself. The more she relaxed, the more he seemed to relax. She would like to settle down entirely but all she could think of was how many Jedi Grievous had killed and how many times she had faced down his army and how he taunted them and how he escaped and how she and Anakin were always trying to stay one step ahead of him or thwart-

"I don't know," he said decisively. It was a strange combination of confidence and dejection. Bizarrely, Ahsoka felt a flare of jealousy that he could accept his fate so quickly.

"Well I… just wander around from planet to planet," she said lamely, "wherever there's a Togruta population. I guess you can't do that."

"I have no intention of 'wandering' anywhere, child," he growled.

"Well I'm glad you have such a good idea of what to do then, _old man_," she snapped back. Once again to her shock, he laughed. It was more like a chuckle and she knew he didn't have any of the correct biological equipment to really laugh, but clearly she had amused him.

"Put your sword away. I have no love for murdering children." His tone was quiet but insistent. Ahsoka saw how he was looking at her sword hand. Just the sight of someone with a symbol of combat inspired him to violence? Her grasp of neurology was hazy but she hadn't imagined it was possible to make someone so utterly driven to savagery by scarring their brain. Ahsoka cautiously deactivated her lightsabre, hooked it on the back of her belt, out of sight, and was somewhat relieved when he did the same. "Better," he said and turned away. "I never realized how young you were…"

"I'm not-"

"You are," he rumbled with finality, "and it shames me to think that I was intent on murdering you. Pursued it. Gloried in it. Disgusting…"

Ahsoka remembered Master Fisto's Padawan, newly made a Knight in the desperation and hurry of the Clone War, who had faced down Grevious and lost. The General hadn't seemed terribly upset about taking the young man's life at the time and he had been scant years older than Ahsoka. How many other young Jedi had Grievous killed? Did he know?

"Well, we were at war-"

"Not an excuse!" he thundered, whirling on her with a threatening stomp. Then he stopped. "I will let you go at the next starbase." He turned around again and Ahsoka found herself dismissed and in confusion once more.

"Uh… thanks," she said and sidled out the door.

_Well now what?_

It had taken all the self-control Grievous had to keep from cutting her down where she stood. It wasn't that he actually wanted to do it- some part of his brain- _traitorous flesh!_- wanted her dead with an intensity he struggled to deny. There was no logical reason to kill her he repeated to himself and to that blood-thirsty clamour that insisted she had wronged him and he needed to revenge himself. _She did nothing to me._ Indeed, no Jedi ever had as far as he knew, unless fighting back in retaliation counted as aggression. Just the word Jedi made his grip on the lightsabre tighten. _How terribly ironic: I am nearly all machine and the one organic part of myself left, I can't trust because someone has programmed it as surely as any computer_.

A week of self-diagnostics and horrifying realization had tempered Grievous' attitude considerably. He didn't want to believe the timid human. He recoiled from the truth and he had stared at charts and scans for hours on end, denying and denying and denying and finally, subduing the programming through sheer repetition of fact, accepting that he had been thoroughly, humiliatingly _used_.

Worse, he had been discarded carelessly when his usefulness ended. And he hated it. He hated that the human had deduced his reaction too. The damage to his mind made him _predictable_! No military commander wanted to be so easily parsed. What good was might when strategy could be compromised by a thorough understanding of your enemy's mind? It made him even more useless.

Most of all though, Grievous hated being powerless. He had been in control most of his life, first on Kalee and then as Supreme Commander of the Seperatist forces. He was accustomed to not only having his orders carried out, but to having subordinates, period. He had nothing, not even a title now. The galaxy thought he was dead and likely they were relieved. His family on Kalee thought him long dead and he would rather they remain in that belief than know their husband, father, grandfather had beget savagery and infamy as General Grievous. His old life was long lost to him. His new life was empty.

But Grievous had known adversity and tragedy before and he had survived it. Now, he was literally built for war and if he had been programmed for vengeance, then vegeance he would have. With considerable effort, he managed to collect his thoughts and direct the insatiable desire for violence into a wall-shattering kick. It helped settle his thoughts a little.

First of all, he needed to deal with these feckless humans. Who were they to think he could be traded for favours? The insufferable arrogance of it! He wasn't going to stand for that. He wasn't going to let himself be returned to that manipulative Sith Lord for further debasement and he was going to make sure they wouldn't tell anyone else he was still around either.

Bloodlust pushed its way to the surface of his thoughts again and Grievous stormed out of the work room, cape billowing, stalking towards the cargo bay with dark purpose. It did not surprise him to find the door open and his three captives on their feet, two of them rubbing their chafed wrists and looking irate.

It did surprise him that one of them had managed to knock out the Padawan. She lay on the deck plating at Wai's feet, a little blood spattered around her mouth, her fingertips just grazing the barrel of her weapon. She twitched slightly and he saw her eyelids flutter.

"Ah crap," said Suul and then Grevious lunged. His first thrust missed and Suul ran for his life, sparing no one a backwards glance. The cargo bay door groaned shut and Grevious grunted, pivoted and saw Ahsoka groggily push herself onto all fours just as his lightsabre sliced Wai neatly through the chest.

Isaac yelped and scrambled backwards, wide-eyed as the woman's corpse toppled to the floor. Ahsoka, sitting on her knees, stared up at him, a dazed expression on her face.

"Why did you kill her?" asked the Padawan, apalled. Grevious lowered the sword with some difficulty. She was so defenseless. He wouldn't even have to try. _Where's the sport in that?_ he countered desperately and the monster was momentarily distracted. Grevious fought one thumb over the switch and the blade retracted.

"I'll kill Suul too when I catch up to him," the General snarled, shook his head viciously and then straightened up. "What are you doing in here?"

"I wanted to find out how… he found me," she replied with the honesty of recent head trauma. To Grievous' intense curiosity- an emotion he found potently countered his mindless rage- Isaac scooted over to the Padawan and gently helped her to her feet, pulling her away from the cyborg.

"And did he tell you?" he stalked closer, even as Isaac steered her away.

"No," she said with obvious annoyance. Grievous paused. For that matter, how had Suul found _him_? Who had known he still existed?

"Mechanic," he growled and Isaac flinched, "what do you know about this?"

"Nothing, I swear! They just came for you. And me. And then headed off to find her. That's it. They didn't- didn't talk to me much. But I think- it wasn't Suul. It's his boss, or cohort or whatever."

"Arveth," said Ahsoka. She looked a bit more alert now. "That was who he was talking to when I caught him. Another Imperial officer."

"Then we are going to meet with this man and find out why he knows what he knows," said Grievous. "Come." Ahsoka and Isaac looked at each other. "_Now_," ordered the General menacingly.

"Yes sir," squeaked the technician and scarpered for the door. Ahsoka stared back at Grievous with narrowed eyes.

"You didn't need to kill her," she said stubbournly.

"I don't need to kill you either. Move it."

Ahsoka weighed her options and decided it was best to obey. She joined Isaac at the door, watching the mechanic deftly bypass the lock Suul had engaged from the other side. Grievous hovered near them, though not so near, she noted, that he was within arm's length.

"Isaac," she whispered, "is there a way to reverse the damage they did to his brain?"

Isaac shook his head. "Again, I'm not a medical expert, but I wouldn't think it to be possible. What's done is done."

"He's stuck being psycho for the rest of his life?"

"I guess."

"…I need to get off this ship."

"You and me both sister," Isaac murmured and hissed as a spark jumped between his thumb and a wire. The doors opened with a groan. Grievous stepped through cautiously, lightsabre up, head lowered. The sensor panels on either side of his head swivelled minutely.

"This way," he said. Ahsoka followed, hands held empty at her sides but senses on high alert. She could feel Suul's presence up ahead.

"He's on the bridge," she said.

"In contact with someone," added Grievous, "Hurry." He set off at a lope and Ahsoka had to run to keep up. They reached the door- locked- and Ahsoka was about to turn and ask Isaac to hot-wire it when Grievous reared back and attacked the thick barrier. Isaac caught up with them just as the cyborg's cuts succeeded in breaching the door. He threw himself flat on the floor as two stray blaster bolts ricocheted out the opening Grievous had created. Ahsoka instinctively dodged aside, but one of the bolts caught Grievous directly in the chest. Ahsoka felt a surge of anger from the General, a flicker of wounded pride and then the big cyborg had shouldered his way through the mess of molten metal, slivers of glowing orange snagging on his pauldrons and igniting a corner of his cape.

Ahsoka gritted her teeth and slithered through the opening behind him. Whoever Suul had been talking to, the comm was silent now. Suul held his blaster in both hands, calmly drawing a bead on Grievous from the far side of the bridge. Being that the starship was not large, the bridge was cramped enough that the General could move across it in a single leap, though the gun fixed on him was keeping him wary. The shot that struck him had done no discernible damage besides leaving a scorch-mark on his thoracic plating but Ahsoka recalled Isaac's description of Grievous 'death' at Obi-Wan's hands. Perhaps he was leery of taking another shot in the chest.

"Have you lost your mind, General?" fumed Suul.

"I do not appreciate being toyed with," Grievous replied and took a small step forward. Ahsoka had been in combat with him enough times to realize he was arranging himself for a spring.

"This situation would have been to your benefit as well as ours," Suul continued, keeping his gun and his gaze focused on the General's face. He should have been watching the cyborg's feet. Ahsoka unobtrusively took hold of her lightsabre, though she did not ignite it yet.

"I very much doubt that," Grievous replied, "but it doesn't matter. You will take me to the rendevous point with your co-conspirator and I will find out how you discovered my continued existence." _And mine_, Ahsoka thought. Grievous raised his chin a fraction, which kept Suul's attention on his head while the cyborg dropped his hocks and dug his toes minutely into the decking.

"I won't-"

Grievous pounced, lightning-fast, and Ahsoka leapt across the bridge behind him, catching his elbow on the backswing as he raised his lightsabre to decapitate the Imperial. There was a brief, uncoordinated struggle: Suul, clutched in the toes of Grievous' right foot trying to get free and reach his blaster, Ahsoka, trying to hold the General back from killing him, and Grievous, fighting both to finish his strike and not to finish it. Ahsoka won. The cyborg didn't release his prey but he did deactivate the lightsabre. Ahsoka let go of him and swiftly kicked Suul's gun beyond his grasping fingers as Grievous reached down and heaved the man up by his collar.

"I don't believe it," gasped the captured Imperial, "you actually listened to the lab rat?"

"What?" said Ahsoka.

"Isaac. He had this crazy plan for you two to join forces. Unbelievable."

"You're mistaken," said Ahsoka bitterly, "And I just saved your life."

"She did," said the General darkly, "but I doubt she'll do any more for you unless you talk."

"I'll never talk," Suul said rather more bravely than Ahsoka thought he should. Grievous pulled the man in close to him and made a wordless sound full of threat and entirely lacking in compassion.

"It's okay," called Isaac from behind them, "He doesn't need to talk. Before he closed the comm channel, his contact transmitted the rendevous coordinates."

Suul sagged in the General's grasp.

It took them bare hours to reach their destination, but they were some of the most tense and least comfortable hours Ahsoka had experienced. She didn't trust Grievous not to kill Suul; she didn't trust Grievous _at all_. She hand-cuffed Suul and hauled him to the other side of the bridge, securing his bonds to the work station beside Isaac.

"So you're with them now, are you?" said Suul, narrowing his eyes at Isaac. The technician hunched his shoulders and peered harder at the schematic in front of him. "You think you'll get out of this alive? You're making a poor decision, Isaac. _He_ certainly won't let you go and now that you know who this Jedi girl is, she's not going to leave you alive."

"Don't worry Isaac, I'm not going to kill you," said Ahsoka and furrowed her brow at Suul. "You need to shut up."

"Do you think you can trust Isaac after he's demonstrated once that he can change allegiences so quickly?"

"I never changed anything," said Isaac flatly. "You never asked me to join your little group. I was a bonus prize to your mission." Ahsoka flipped the technician a small smile. Suul's attempt to divide and conquer was not going well.

While the Padawan argued with the Imperial officer, Grievous occupied himself scanning the system they were entering and rapidly developing offensive and escape strategies. If he thought about logical processes, such as military manouvering from a purely technical standpoint, it dampened his aggressiveness, making it take a back seat to rational ideas and gave him a rare clarity of thought. Simply _knowing_ that there was something wrong with him helped. He could examine the problem, work out the faults and exploit them. It became a tactical exercise, although one that never ended.

And one that he frequently failed at. Were it not for Ahsoka's intervention, Grievous was certain he would have slain Suul. He shifted, watching the officer. Why had he let the Padawan stop him? Suul had no value to him as a hostage. Everything Grievous needed to know Isaac had dug out of the computer. Suul was superfluous. In fact, he was dangerous. He knew Grievous was alive. He would know the General's last location once Grievous took his leave.

"Stand aside," he said and swept his lightsabre out in a menacing arc.

"What are you-" Ahsoka dodged aside as Grievous snapped the blade forward. It bit into the console behind her with a hiss and he spun the hilt, cleaving a wedge out of the work station. Isaac, seated on the other side of Suul, realized what was happening and froze in place.

"Isaac!" Ahsoka ignited her own blade and thrust it between Grievous' and Suul. The General turned yellow eyes on her.

"He knows you are alive," said Grievous evenly. "He went this far to find you and capture you. Don't you think if he's left alive he might go back to his superiors and encourage _them_ to come for you this time?"

Ahsoka gripped the lightsabre, struggling to hold back the cyborg's blade but her will was faltering. _He has a point_. _But-_ Ahsoka's mind whirled. She clenched her jaw, pushing against Grevious' sword with all her might. He wasn't budging. _But nothing! He has a point! Leave Suul alive and next time it might be Vader himself coming after you!_ Ahsoka deactivated her lightsabre and stepped back in one smooth motion. She lowered her eyes to the floor, aware of the moment when Suul's presence ceased to exist within the Force and accutely aware too that she had been directly involved.

Arveth Socto was not what Grievous had been expecting. Judging from the Padawan's expression, she was just as surprised.

"You're a what?" said Ahsoka.

"I'm a biologist," said the small human man meekly, pale as a sheet since Grievous had abruptly informed him of his contact's grisly fate.

"And you work for the Empire?"

Arveth nodded. "Look, it wasn't entirely by choice, if that matters to you at all. I'm trying to make the best of a bad situation."

"By cheating for a promotion?" said Ahsoka.

"Exactly," he said, affronted. "The Empire has no use for my real training so I was stuck pushing files as a clerk on Coruscant. I came across a misdemenour case, perpetrated by a young Togruta woman named Soshi Ra. Something about it seemed… off. Before the Empire, I studied population dynamics and genetic drift in the Nexu sub-species on Cholganna. We tracked individuals and one of the techniques we used in the field for identification was the unique pattern of whisker spots and facial stripes each Nexu had. You Togruta can be identified the same way- unique body markings. I used my old software to run Soshi Ra's facial markings through a database and realized… Soshi was Ahsoka Tano."

"And the obvious choice was to turn me in?!" huffed Ahsoka. Arveth shrugged, hands shaking.

"It was Suul's idea. He was there when I discovered you. I just identified you." He paused. "I thought I might be wrong. I thought you died… a while ago." His gaze flicked to General Grievous, silent and motionless beside Ahsoka. "Thought you were dead too."

"You try making this sound like it was all a coincidence, but I overheard you," said Ahsoka vehemently. "Suul tried to back out. You pushed him to continue with the idea."

"I really needed a promotion. Do you know what's it like being forced into a job that's so far beneath you it's embarassing to hand out your business card?"

"Well," said Ahsoka, eyes narrowing, "I used to be a Jedi. Now I'm some _kid_. So yeah, I think I can relate. But you sold my life for a promotion! They would have killed me, when they got me! You think Vader's going to let his old apprentice go? Not a chance!"

Arveth looked anything but apologetic.

"How did you find me?" said Grievous quietly. He hadn't moved or spoken since Ahsoka had accosted the biologist.

"I didn't," replied Arveth. "Suul did."

"Suul?"

"It was a coincidence that I happened to find Soshi's file, that I had a hunch and a way to identify her. I have no idea how Suul found out about you, General. Maybe ask your mechanic."

The General snarled and took a long step forward, but stayed his hand. "Who else was in on your scheme?"

"Suul's lieutenant… some woman. Wei or Wah or something. We figured the fewer people we involved, the bigger each cut of the glory."

Ahsoka concentrated on Arveth, sifting through layers of fear and surprise. "He's lying," she said. Grievous whipped 'round to look down at her. "I'm sure of it. Someone else besides these three."

"Isaac," said Grievous and straightened up to fix his gaze on the tech.

"I had no idea!" squeaked Isaac. Ahsoka nodded.

"Someone else. How did Suul find Grievous?" she asked, baring her teeth just slightly.

Arveth pursed his lips. "You are going to kill me, right?"

"Yes," replied Grievous unequivocally. The biologist sighed.

"It's not worth taking to the grave. All right. Suul was in Commander Cody's honour guard about a year ago."

"Cody was with Obi-Wan on Utapau!" said Ahsoka, eyes widening. Grievous made a sound like a snort and said nothing.

"Cody met with L-lord Vader about something. General Grievous came up in conversation. They both knew he wasn't… really dead. They knew where he was and Suul overheard the system but not the exact location. He got me to track down the spaceports and any docked Clone Wars-era medical ships. That's how he found you."

"They… knew?" said Ahsoka. "What context? Were they going to resurrect him?" She was aware of Grievous' frigid rage beside her and edged away.

Arveth shrugged. "Suul said it didn't sound like it. Some kind of time constraints. Plus… Lord Vader doesn't like competition. Uh, General you were… well-known during the war. Lord Vader was resistant to having to share the galaxy with anyone except his own Master. He didn't want you brought back to life."

"And Commander Cody?" said Ahsoka, swallowing a lump that suddenly appeared in her throat. She had known Cody… or thought she had.

"Thought the General's leadership would be an asset. Suul believed he had every intention of bringing the General into the Imperial military."

"That is _not_ going to happen," muttered the General and flexed his grip on his lightsabre. "Is there anything else you would like to know from this man, Padawan?" Ahsoka, subtlly creeping away from the cyborg, was caught by his apparent politeness.

"Uh, no," she said and felt a surge of guilt. He wasn't entirely likeable, but this man was a victim of the Empire in a similar way that she was. "Wait. W-wait. I have an idea."

"Speak quickly," said Grievous.

"Jedi mind trick,"' she said, "Mental suggestion is one of the ways I've kept myself alive and safe. Most people believe what they want to believe." She looked at Arveth. "You don't actually want to die, right?"

The man shook his head. "Gods, no!"

"So if I told you that you never saw me, or the General, or Isaac, and that would save your life, will you believe me?"

"I don't know if that makes any sense," he said.

"Do it," said Ahsoka forcefully. "You don't know anything about Soshi Ra. You have no idea where Suul Reise is. You've never seen General Grievous or Isaac in person. You don't know anything about us." Arveth blinked. She took a deep breath and forced herself to concentrate entirely on her illusion. "You've never met us. You came here to meet Suul- he didn't tell you why. You don't know where Suul is."

"I don't know where Suul is," said Arveth faithfully, suddenly appearing uncertain. "I don't know who you are." His brows furrowed in consternation. "I came here to meet Suul…"

"He said he had something important to tell you."

"He had something important to tell me."

"You don't know what it was."

"I don't know what it was."

"You're annoyed and you're going back to work."

"I'm going back to my job, damn him. Doesn't tell me what's so blasted important and doesn't have the decency to show up and explain himself!" Without looking at any of them, the ex-biologist pushed himself up from the crate he had been seated on and bustled out of the cargo bay. Ahsoka tracked him across the space-port, back to his own ship, still muttering about Suul and his confounded evasiveness. His mind was devoid of anything resembling his encounter.

Ahsoka sagged against the wall, relieved. _I did the right thing._

Suddenly she realized she was back in civilization, free of all manner of kid-napping and possible bodily harm, for the time being. She had her lightsabre, she had her connection to the Force and she had her confidence. Something rippled in the Force, startling her and she realized it was the tenuous connection she had forged with Grievous, tearing, as he piloted the stolen ship away from the spaceport. Well, he had promised to leave her be. It seemed he was as good as his word.

_What now?_ she thought.

Ahsoka spent the next several hours wandering the spaceport, familiarizing herself with the layout, finding likely places of employ and the best routes from the center hub, full of shops and eateries and living quarters, to the docks. She bought a bun filled with steamed vegetables from a diner and walked while she ate. The spaceport was too small. Too few people here, too few ships coming in and out. She needed to be on a planet, one with big cities and wilderness to lose herself in, if need be.

First though, she needed a job and enough money to get off the station. The station had exactly one courier service, which, thanks to its monopoly, charged exorbient prices and employed a number of harried-looking folks. Ahsoka confidently approached the counter, feeling in the pouch at her waist for her identification card.

"Can I help you?" said the young Mirialan woman behind the counter. Ahsoka smiled.

"Yes, please. Are you hiring right now?"

The young woman rolled her eyes. "We're _always_ hiring," she said and quickly added, "not because it's bad to work here, just because people tend to come and go on the station. Do you have a resume?"

Ahsoka fumbled in the pouch and came up empty. "Um… I did but- my identification card… oh no. I must have left it-!" The Mirialan winced.

"I hate losing my ID. Look, I'll grab the manager. She's pretty cool about that stuff. Like I said, people come and go. And hey, if you don't work out, she can always fire you, right?" Ahsoka managed a chuckle for the girl's sake and then frowned as she leaned into the office behind her, speaking with the manager. _I left my damn I.D. card on the stupid ship!_

"Need a job, eh?" said a new woman, human, older, auburn haired with steel-rimmed glasses sliding down a long nose. "C'mon. Interview."

Ahsoka left the shop a half hour later with a job and an array of suggestions for living quarters. She was still worried about the card. It had taken her a while to find a counter-fitter and a while longer to come up with a good backstory for Soshi Ra, never mind scrape together the money to pay for it. She had no idea where Grievous had taken the ship and could only guess what end the vehicle might have. Maybe he would get shot down and the card- and her compromised identity- would be destroyed. Maybe he would be captured and the card too. What if he sold it?

She needed to formulate a new identity and find someone capable of crafting it. Ahsoka sighed. Time to look for the seedy part of town…

It took her all of twenty minutes. A dented hallway with flickering overhead lights curved behind the environmental control complex and lead her to a dimly lit area, rife with suspicious smelling herbs and blank-eyed people lurking in loose clumps. Here and there, someone was seated with an assortment of items for sale, all of apparently innocent origins but likely fronts for something more interesting. Ahsoka adopted a slouch and a wider stance as she walked. She flicked her eyes left and right, never quite meeting the gaze of anyone else. _I'm one of you_, she thought. Ahsoka passed a group of people that looked less tattered and luckless and a little more dangerous, hoping she wouldn't be mistaken for some kind of rival. At the end of the alley, she found a man with a blanket spread out before him. On it were plastic post cards, the kind you could send more than once by passing it through a scanner and paying the postage. The receiver would get a printed card identical to the one you purchased. It required similar equipment to make identification cards and Ahsoka crouched in front of him.

"Hey," she said, "I'm lookin' for somethin' and bit more… personal."

The man blinked heavy eyes at her. "Yeah, I can probably find something like that. It'll cost you a bit more than these."

"Sure. I don't mind."

He nodded. "Maybe write down what you want on it. Personalize it, right?"

She took the stylus and pad from him and wrote out the information. He nodded when he looked at it.

"Pay up front," he said. "Three hundred credits." Ahsoka was thankful she had kept cash on her and that the Imperial kid-nappers hadn't been interested in it. What was a few hundred credits to the glory they thought was coming to them?

"Be about a day," he said with a grunt.

"Thanks." Ahsoka turned to go and paused to peruse a few of the other sellers. She didn't want to look like she'd had a specific goal in mind when she came down here. As she was heading out, she heard heavy footsteps behind her.

"Hey," said a deep voice and Ahsoka turned, "you lookin' for-"

They stared at each other. Emotions whirled through Ahsoka- happiness, then fear, then uncertainty and the sudden realization that she was once again, recognized.

"Ahsoka Tano?"

"_Rex?_"


End file.
